PW Chapter 293: Reunions (Patreon)

As Astrid returned to the city, the people there changed their attention from giving their “goodbyes” to the Barbarians to instead congratulating her. Again, so many voices clamoring over each other made for nothing more than a constant fluctuation of noise, but two words stuck out as they were repeated again and again.

“Wandering Immortal.”

She wasn’t really sure how that had been the moniker given to her recently, but she wasn’t gonna argue with it. In truth, it was pretty much exactly what her Class history would dictate that she should be, but still, it felt strange to have so lofty a name when she wasn’t even level 100 yet. The fact that she was considering 100 some insignificant benchmark, however, did make her internally chastise herself. Her mother, who had a small amount of notoriety in small places during her military career, had done so when she was maybe level 60 or 70. And she was already so much stronger than Burning Brighid had been.

Now that she thought about it, she was pretty sure she knew exactly where the nickname originated from.

Instead of continuing to think about that, Astrid reached the wall and, with a quick crouch, jumped to the top. She landed with a bit of a crash and had to fight to keep from instinctively lashing out at the woman who jogged towards her. She’d gotten too twitchy, but that muscle memory made sense. Though she was smaller, the approaching person’s equipment looked almost exactly the same as Misha’s had: the plumed helmet, shining armor, and everything. Glancing down the walls, Astrid could see a few other people with similar equipment. Evidently, people with leader-type Classes were given distinctive armor. It wasn’t her place to comment on the obvious targets that that painted on these people’s backs, but she couldn’t help but wonder why they’d make it so obvious.

“Hello, and welcome to our section of the Bulwark,” the woman in armor said. “I’m the commander of this small area, Sylvia Captain. And, on top of thanking you for saving all of my subordinates here today, I want to thank you for saving the lives of some of my family members. What you did in that surge up in Haltop certainly saved my daughter and her family’s lives.”

Yeah, that was what Astrid had thought. People were calling her Wandering Immortal after dealing with two surges in quick succession. If she remembered correctly, Haltop was the one she’d fought just over a week ago. It had been a mid Steel tier branch, but with the surge, the monsters within, strange centaur-like creatures called beetle knights, had risen past level 80. The ones that had spawned outside the bounds of the Dungeon had been in a plain that almost too perfectly suited their capabilities. They were something like heavily armed cavalry, and in the plains that welcomed them, they could build up to a full charge similar to the nightmares she had fought in the Dungeon branch back in the Verdant Sanctuary.

“I’m glad to have been able to help,” Astrid smiled as she shook the other woman’s hand. “It just so happens that my Skillset was perfectly made for dealing with monsters like those there. I’m only apologetic that I wasn’t able to preserve the fields. Breaking the charge… well, you’ve see how I would have done that.”

“It certainly is a pity that the fields, so close to ready to be harvested, sustained damage. However, I can guarantee that everybody there would prefer to be alive and have to replant than the other alternative.”

“I’d have to agree with that.” Astrid said that, then let her gaze start to wander, looking at the soldiers that surrounded her. Given that this conversation was being had out in public, none of them made any effort to hide that they were listening in, and she could recognize the obvious worship in their eyes as they listened to every word she said. It was how she had looked at her mother before she received her Class. Or, how she’d reacted to the Golden Fist.

“Now, if you accompany me, I’m sure that all of the commanders around here would like to hear the story of what exactly you agreed to down there,” Sylvia said as she stepped to the side and gestured for Astrid to follow her. “We have no doubt that it will protect us, and several of our people with Skills to do so made sure to listen as best they could.”

“But you’d still like me to tell you everything,” Astrid nodded. “Of course.”

She started to continue to walk past, but then somebody lunged forward to catch her attention. Astrid turned and looked down at him, feeling like he was vaguely familiar. He was on the shorter side, with a handsome face. His belly filled his uniform more than any other part of him, and he wore a half cape that nobody else seemed to be wearing. Astrid noticed the way that Sylvia bristled at the interruption, but figured there was no reason for her to also be angry with the excitable man. Instead of pushing him away brusquely, she put a benevolent smile on and spoke.

“I’m afraid I’m going to be busy with this meeting right now. However, if you’d like to say something to me afterwards, I’d be happy to set aside some time.”

He recoiled as if he had been slapped, and Astrid blinked twice as she half turned towards Sylvia. Before the commander started to say anything, the man placed his left hand on his chest, looking at her as if schooling a slow child.

“Astrid, it’s me.”

“I’m not sure who ‘me’ is supposed to be,” Astrid shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, I’ve met a lot of people, and I’m not so good with names.”

“Are you—”

“Private Borus!” Sylvia cut him off, reaching forward and grabbing him by the uniform. She lifted him into the air, the bottom of his belly poking out of the shirt as she did so. “I was willing to have this conversation privately, but given that you continue to violate every standard of propriety to continue to attempt to inflate your apparent value, I shall pop that ego here, in public.

“I’ve already heard about your so-called ‘valor’ on the battlefield today. Whatever little respect you have gained through your years of reluctant, half-hearted service has been thoroughly destroyed by your comportment when summoned to the battlefield as a participant. Go, wait in your commanding officer’s tent. He’ll be there to discipline you after our meeting, and I suspect that, finally, he’ll stop putting his neck out for you. In all likelihood, this is the final time that we will interact, and I have to say that I’m grateful that I can finally level every complaint of mine towards you in such a public fashion.”

She didn’t say anything more as she swept past him, shoving a hand into his chest that sent him sprawling to the ground. Astrid looked at him, finally recognizing her childhood “friend” after hearing his name. It was surprising that she’d failed to recognize him immediately. When he was young, he was thin, which wasn’t the biggest difference. Instead, the greatest change was his previous confidence that had become arrogance, and the bearing that had once been reserved was now overbearing and haughty.

He stared at her, seeming to want her to do something for him, but she continued walking, watching as his mouth dropped open and a few of the other soldiers reached down and, with an eagerness that testified to how few friends he had here, yanked him away.

“I apologize for our resident problem,” Sylvia apologized as she continued forward. “His father has a small amount of sway here, due to some trade deal with some members of the leadership. However, he’s been on thin ice for years, and made a particularly embarrassing showing of himself during the lead-up to the battle. I’ll finally be free of him.”

“Nothing even happened. How did he embarrass himself so thoroughly?” Astrid asked as she glanced back.

“What do you mean nothing happened?” Sylvia asked, cocking her head.

“Just that I’ve been on battlefields. I’ve seen where a soldier is going to embarrass themselves. Here, nothing had happened yet. The first arrow hadn’t even flown! I stopped anything from happening, so how could he have done something to embarrass himself so quickly?.”

“Oh,” Sylvia said, sighing. “For some reason, he thought that a battlefield where he was finally high enough level to actually participate in it would entail him sitting on his arse and watching anybody whose Class isn’t magical fight to the death to preserve his life.”

Astrid looked at her for a few seconds, and the officer nodded, emphasizing what she had said.

“He’s an idiot,” Astrid said simply.

“Indeed he is. I’m not sure why he thought coming up and talking to you was going to make anything change, though,” Sylvia said, looking at Astrid meaningfully as they made their way into a sturdy building.

“Oh, we grew up in the same town,” Astrid shrugged. “We, along with a three others, had all planned on delving together, but when I got a different Class than expected, and our friend who we’d expected to be our Healer ended up as a Baker, we ended up all going our separate ways. Turned out that he and Liesl had made other plans anyways, though, so…” Astrid trailed off.

“So he truly is an idiot,” Sylvia shook her head, though her gaze fell on a man wearing mottled leather for some reason. “Well, he’s made an enemy out of basically everybody around here, and he’s already burned through every relationship that might have brought him some sort of mercy. I guess, if you want to, we’ll keep an eye on him in response to what you did here.”

“Duchess, no.” As she said it, Astrid laughed. “We didn’t part on particularly good terms, anyways, to say nothing of the massive level gap between us. He thought this would be some great position and talked about it before we split up. If he’s too much of a fool to actually take advantage of it, that’s not my fault.”

“Very well,” Sylvia said, nodding. The conversation ended as they walked to the front of the room, and Astrid took in the sight of half a dozen other leaders sitting across the room.

“Now, please tell us everything about your experience with the Barbarians.”

***

“So long as nothing notably changes, I’d say we can trust Hraaken and his subordinates to keep away.” As Astrid said it, she could feel the disbelief from the career soldiers in front of her. Regardless, she didn’t feel like it was important for her to explain why she thought this particular point of honor would be kept by their longtime enemies. The Bulwark’s armies would remain on guard, though she had stopped today’s battle from ever beginning.

“With this, I don’t think we have any more questions,” Sylvia said, looking at the rest of her leaders. When none of them mentioned anything, she nodded and stood. She stretched out a hand to Astrid, who took it and smiled.

The ending of the meeting was a strange mix of hellos, thanks, and questions about what had happened in the capital about two months ago. Astrid gave what answers she could, but before long, she was just done with having the conversations at all. With apologetic words, she begged off continuing any conversation, and, before long, was given some measure of freedom again. Fortunately, the notoriety that her achievements until then had given her license to basically tell everybody to back off and have nobody question it.

It was much the same as the weight she had treated Aleksandr with when he showed up when she was only level 3. She would’ve done anything to make him comfortable or just to make sure she was showing what she considered to be an appropriate level of respect. The general anonymity she had preserved when entering those two towns to help was a forgotten luxury, and Astrid wished she could have it back. That wasn’t going to happen, and she simply pushed such thoughts out of her mind. Instead, she walked out of the building and was immediately surrounded. Nobody came within maybe five meters, but every soldier stared at her expectantly.

“I’m not much of a storyteller,” she said to everybody. “As things are right now, I’m not gonna be answering any questions. If you feel like you really need to say something to me, I’m happy to listen. For now, though, I’m going to go get myself some food, take a quick rest, then get back to the other side of the wall, and make sure that the Barbarians are actually leaving. From then, I don’t think I’ll be sticking around for long.”

She wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say or what, but a few people mumbled thanks before turning and wandering away. Surely there were some people around who had similar stories to Sylvia, but a couple people who didn’t seem to have actually listened to what she said called out questions.

Asking the names of her Skills was probably the least intrusive question that came her way, especially since one asked if it was her mother or father that was a Barbarian. She didn’t answer any of them. People standing beside the three excited questioners threw elbows, smacks, and glares at the people who had opened their mouths. The idiot that had questioned her heritage wasn’t treated so kindly, though, and received a series of punches to the gut that had him wheezing. Then, the people split apart to give her a straight path forward, and somebody called out where the mess hall was.

Astrid waved her thanks and walked along, her pace taking her forward at a speed that most everybody else had to jog at to keep up. She saw all sorts of people around, and though nobody else called her a Barbarian, whether directly or indirectly, there were not a few glares of animosity that she could place from her lifetime living among people.

Making her way into the mess hall, Astrid found a table pushed away from all of the rest. A few of the soldiers stepped away and gestured for her to take her seat there as another went to get food for her. She started to mumble to herself, but instead kept her mouth closed as she took the seat.

I said I wanted to be a hero, never thought I would hate getting the hero treatment.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before food was brought to her, and she started shoveling it in. The meat, whatever it was, was from some sort of monster. Maybe high Iron, going off the mana concentration inside of it. As she ate, a line formed up on the other side of the table, and men and women came up to give her thanks. What took her by surprise was how many people’s words made her genuinely emotional. Comments about saved children, preserved parents, and salvaged hopes came to her. Each soldier who thanked her only spoke for thirty seconds at most, and still, once she had finished her food, she remained sitting for a while as other people felt obligated to come express their gratitude to her.

Finally, the line started to slow down as one of the cooks came out with a small pastry, maybe the size of Astrid’s palm. He gave it to her, not saying anything, but through his posture, communicating that he had a similar story to the rest. She took it gratefully and took a bite.

“I hate to offend my Baker friend,” she said with a small smile, “but that might be the best treat I’ve had. Thank you.”

He pulled off his hat, bowed his head to her, and stepped back without another word. Astrid watched him go as she took another bite of the food. A hand slapping on the table pulled her out of her watching, and her head snapped towards the sound as her helmet and gauntlets reappeared on her body. On the other side of the table, Borus startled, his knees smashing into the table from where he’d sat himself down.

“I’ve decided to do you the favor of being allowed to accompany me in the party I’m assembling to delve the Dungeon.”

He spoke without warning, and Astrid found herself squinting in disbelief at him. The Sorcerer smiled as if he’d offered to give her the greatest deal of all time, and she shook her head.

“Hello again, Borus,” she said, still not sure how he’d gotten the gall to say what he just did.

“Yes, hello,” he said, waving his hand through the air dismissively. “I’ll consider this as your apology for not recognizing me. Now, when will we go? I'm sure you know other people who’d see this opportunity for what it is.”

Astrid knew what he was getting at, but she genuinely couldn’t believe that he was so arrogant as to think that it was actually going to happen. It wasn’t hard to see how he was constantly getting into trouble around here with an attitude like this. Nearby, she saw Liesl leaning against a wall. Borus continued saying something about how wonderful he was, but Astrid stretched her attention to instead hear what Liesl did with her lips barely moving across the room.

“I’m sorry. For him, and for before. I’m glad you’re doing so well. If you want to come see me sometime, we can trade stories.”

Liesl saw that Astrid had heard what she said and smiled a little. It was a bitter look, but she pushed off the wall to stand beside the commander in the mottled leather. Evidently, the leader of the scouting battalion. Finally, Astrid turned her attention back to Borus, whose face was going red with emotion as he obviously saw her ignoring him. She raised a hand and cut him off.

“Borus, what level are you?” she asked. 

He sat upright and declared, quite proudly, “Level 30.”

“Alright,” she answered, doing some quick math on her fingers. It took almost thirty seconds, and, honestly, she was  pretty sure the conclusion she came to was wrong, but it’d probably be close enough to make the point she wanted to. 

“In total, from level 1 to 30, it’s something like 1,200,000 experience. That’s the culmination of everything that you’ve done for the last… five, six years since we last saw each other. It’s also only a little bit more than what I need for my next level. We are so far from equals that it’d make more sense for you to parter up with level 1’s than for me to waste my time with you.”

His face, already red from passion, became scarlet with apoplectic rage. Astrid cut him off.

“Listen, Borus. If you wanted to hang off my coattails, your opportunity to do that was years ago, when we were both level 1. Now, it’s not going to happen. I don’t know why you chose to do this in a public place, but now you’ve got a result, even though not the one you wanted. Now go.”

She didn’t say anything more, instead standing and walking to the kitchens where she gave her thanks for the meal. There was precious little sound in the air, and when she turned around, Borus was gone. She shrugged, and looking towards the conversation she was going to have to have with Hraaken, walked out of the mess hall. She was already done here.